


the question

by thestarsaregivenonceonly



Category: Timmy Chalamet, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom, chalamet, tim chalamet, timothee
Genre: Angst, Cute, Doggy Style, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Its cute idk, NSFW, Romance, Second Person, Smut, not safe for work, proposal, romantic, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaregivenonceonly/pseuds/thestarsaregivenonceonly
Summary: Timmy proposes to you.





	the question

**Author's Note:**

> request from anonymous on tumblr (i'm so sorry it took forever my love)   
> "Could you do an imagine about finding Timmy talking to a girl and meeting with a girl and being secretive only to find out he was proposing to you in like some cute way. Smut too"
> 
> find me on tumblr same user name xx

He had to know how much anxiety he was giving you, didn’t he? He didn’t owe you an explanation every time he left the apartment, but you were still curious. Almost every day now, for 3 days in a row, he would leave the ghost of a kiss on your mouth and disappear for a while. He always went with his security detail, vanishing into the traffic of the city without any clue whatsoever. 

You trusted Timothée with your entire heart, but you were concerned. Question him? Wait a little longer? Perhaps talk to some of his friends? All you were worried about was that there was something negative going on with him that he didn’t feel comfortable telling you. Cheating? Never. Could he be sick? Your mind raced, ideas crashing into each other like cars on the track. Didn’t he know by now that you should always be honest with each other? 

Nothing else was different. Tim held you close, possibly closer than ever. He kissed you like he was kissing you for the first time. He made you meals when he could, talked openly with you about travels and events this year, and even if you did have an argument, he refused to leave or sleep until it was resolved. So what the fuck was he doing?

The fourth time that he went, you decided it was time to ask questions. You didn’t want to meddle... you were worried. 

It was dark, though still rather early, and you sat on a comfortable couch in the living room of the apartment you shared. The only light came from a gentle lamp on your left, shining over your shoulder to illuminate the pages of the Robert Galbraith detective series you were engrossed in. It was either this, throwing yourself wholly into something for a distraction, or stare out the window anxiously until he came through the door. 

A loud beep echoed from your purse, and you tugged your cell phone from its depths to a sudden explosion of messages.

Are you alright?

I just saw the photo, what is he doing?!

DID YOU SEE IT??

Your heart hammered, and you clicked on a Twitter link from a friend. It opened to a tweet with thousands of interactions, containing a photo. You squinted a bit, but it was him. Tim was sitting in a small café next to a girl you didn’t know, looking at something on her cell phone. He was wearing the clothes from yesterday, so the photo was taken then. 

Your phone clattered back to the counter, and you sat on the kitchen floor to think.

He could never cheat, could he? Timmy was smart as a whip, he would know better than to appear in public next to a random girl like that. Not because it bothered you, but because the paparazzi were relentless. The stories they would conjure up would be painful, and that was what was happening. You stared at the tiles on the floor for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. All you could do at this point was ask. Ask and pray that it isn’t your worst nightmare.

What could have been twenty minutes passed, but if it had been longer you wouldn’t have noticed. The doorknob jiggled quietly, and he stepped inside with snowflakes in his hair. It hadn’t been snowing when you were reading.

“Love, what are you doing” He was next to you instantly, sitting close and searching for your eyes. You met his gaze, trying desperately to think. 

“Just thinking.”

He frowned, pulling your chin up so he could look in your eyes. 

“About what? Why are you on the kitchen floor?” His concern was soothing, and you breathed out, kissing his palm.

“The press can be... a lot.” 

His reaction was delayed, and after half a minute or so he tugged his phone out of his pocket. Silence hung heavily as he pressed buttons, searching for what he never wanted to see. Someone invading his life.

“Fuck,” he spat angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose hard between two fingers. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Timmy, what’s going on?” 

He met your gaze, setting his phone on the floor. You knew him so well, and the wheels in his head were moving so quickly that he was trying to keep up. 

“I wanted to do this differently.” His hand found yours, and he kissed your fingers. “But I suppose I owe you an explanation first.”

You waited tensely, staring him down. He stared back with no effort. 

“She’s a jeweler. I’ve been meeting with her to talk about something for you. My excitement about it somewhat overshadowed the fact that it would raise eyebrows for me to be seen with her. Apparently there’s no such thing as a platonic interaction anymore. God, this pisses me off.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair to push it back. 

“A jeweler.” You repeated it dumbly, not understanding. He nodded, watching you carefully. The ideas in your head morphed into buzzing bees, swarming into a mass of confusion. “For what?”

A soft smile touched his face, but the words he said didn’t make it to your ears. His hand dug into his side pocket, and he pulled out a small, square, velvet box. Every sense hooked onto that box instantly, and the rest of the world vanished. 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. But I guess it’s true that life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. I love you. I want to make sure you know that every day until I die. Perhaps longer.” A lone finger delicately lifted the lid, and you felt faint.

The ring was small and simple, and it had a vintage look to it. Silver intertwined along the band like a vine, and it had such an unusual elegance to it. You could barely breathe, explosions going off inside of you to detonate any feeling of loneliness that remained. He wanted you forever. Not just now, not just then. All of it.

“Marry me?” He grinned, his face flushed with emotion. 

You supposed that nothing would ever quite turn out as you pictured it. Here you were, sitting on the tiled floor of an apartment in New York City in an old pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Your socks didn’t even match. You needed to wash your hair, too. This wasn’t the type of proposal you would ever expect from him, but it was more than you could ever want. This was what he wanted. You were what he wanted. 

“Yes.”

He beamed, sliding it into place. It felt comfortable and content, as if this was where it was destined to be. What kind of bull crap is that? You laughed at yourself for the puppy dog love, but you meant it seriously at the same time. It was supposed to be there. You sat with him for silent minutes, moving your hand in circles to see it from different angles. His hand arm was around your waist, and he kissed your temple. 

Champagne, he had to get champagne now. You put on your best lingerie, feeling a deep, genuine excitement that you hadn’t felt in so long. He came home with a lot of champagne. Dancing in the kitchen. You told him you wanted to get him a ring, and he kissed you hard and long. He chose one after quite a search online, and you ordered it. The transaction almost didn’t go through, because he was getting handsy. 

“I’m not gonna be able to finish this if you keep doing that,” you said, typing your info into the payment box. He was standing behind you with his hands up your shirt, nibbling on your neck. His hands lingered on your chest, and you leaned in to his grip. The last few numbers. You stared, typing furiously. One of Tim’s hands was massaging your left breast over the bra, and the other pressed flat against your stomach. 

“I like seeing that ring on your finger.” A deep shudder ran through your back, and it was ordered. “Done?”

“Done.” You turned, and he allowed you a moment to adjust. He took your hand and tugged you backwards to the bedroom. You followed slowly, standing close to him as he shut the door. 

“Are you sure?” His voice was clear, but it didn’t scare you. 

“Without a doubt,” you stated. 

He moved through the dark to his bed, climbing under blankets with you and holding your body close. You kicked off your sweatpants, curling into his body in your underwear. You kissed for a long while, laughing and whispering in the night. His hands roamed freely, leaving you dizzy. 

“Mmm, baby girl?” Your heart fluttered violently. 

“Yes?”

“I wanna make love to you.” The words sounded somehow romantic, though his tone was low and deep. Your hands gripped his hair, and you nodded, kicking your panties down and off your feet. He kissed you breathlessly, and you allowed him to guide you. Tim liked hold your body up straight against him, and you held onto the headboard for support. Your other hand gripped his and held on, for you were both basically kneeling.

It felt different this time. The sparkle on your hand made him hungrier. You would never be with anyone else. He was it. The small voice of a sub whispered from the depths of your mind, imagining him making his mark: that you were his and his alone. 

You knew it would drive him insane, and the opportunity was too perfect. You were sideways on the bed with your face almost against the headboard, and he was thrusting into you from behind with his arm around your waist. He kissed your back, whining, and you lifted your left hand and placed it on the headboard. The ring was basically screaming in his vision. because when he finally noticed it his movements slowed noticeably. 

“Damn, you look so pretty with that ring on.” His hand covered yours, and he lifted you close enough to kiss the side of your neck. “Come for me, mon amour.” 

You whimpered, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He sped up, encouraging you gently as he went. You didn’t want to come yet, it was so fucking good, but it exploded anyway. You cried out, but he didn’t slow the pace. Your walls were sensitive, and small moans escaped your mouth until he came, his movements becoming uneven and sloppy. He wasn’t as loud as usual, stuttering harsh profanities into the skin of your neck. 

Your exhaustion took over, the intensity of the evening weighing you down. Gasping quietly, you closed your eyes as he gently pulled out and snuggled up behind you. Loving no one else for the rest of your life. His hand moved along your hip gently, and he kissed your shoulder. 

“You’re a little tease, you know that?” 

You looked back at him, beaming. “You didn’t tell me to stop.” Wiggling your fingers in his face, the ring glittered softly.


End file.
